


Ample Breasts

by raelee514



Series: Breath and Motion [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:47:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raelee514/pseuds/raelee514
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel isn't happy about a certain habit Dean has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ample Breasts

**Author's Note:**

> Was written eons ago from [ Kink_Bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) prompt: Nipple play.

Castiel grits his teeth as he watches Dean’s eye level stay firmly on the diner waitress’ cleavage. Dean orders his breakfast his gaze going up only to give her one his most flirtatious smiles. At least there is no wink. Dean used to always wink at them too. The waitress smiles back, a bit of flush on her cheeks before she turns to Sam all business and Castiel catches Dean’s gaze fall back to her breasts. Castiel forces himself to relax his jaw and not to growl. He doesn’t like this feeling, this urge to tell the waitress Dean’s his, to remind Dean that Dean is his. He doesn’t like feeling like he might lose Dean to two mounds of flesh. But the fear persists, and is reinforced in almost every diner they enter where there is a young waitress with ample breasts. Castiel especially hates Hooters. 

“Cas?” Dean’s voice breaks his train of thought and Castiel meets Dean’s gaze, hating how thankful he is to see those green eyes staring right at him. He stares blankly though wondering why Dean is talking to him. “Order your breakfast, dude.”

Castiel feels embarrassed, of course, it’s his turn to order. He looks at the waitress, finds himself looking at the breasts he wishes didn’t exist and orders his bacon and eggs sunny side up with a coffee. She walks away then and Castiel looks up and is thankful that Dean isn’t following with his eyes, but then again he can no longer see her cleavage. 

“You all right?” Dean asks him, eyes on him now all focused and concerned. Castiel almost hates how happy it makes him almost but not quite. He frowns, unsure how to respond to Dean’s question. He isn’t all right, he’s far from all right, this has been bothering him for weeks, the envy, the fear, the resentment of female breasts. He wants to discuss it he realizes, but he can’t here and now, in public, in front of Sam, with the waitress and her cleavage about to come back to the table with their food and drinks. He is still awful at lying, can’t quite get the hang of it, so he just stares back at Dean, frowning, hoping that Dean will understand that he needs to ask again later. 

Dean’s eyes widen ever so slightly and his mouth droops a bit in a frown as his brow furrows. He understands something is wrong, but Castiel can tell he has no idea what. 

Sam clears his throat, and Dean shoots his brother a look and shrugs. “Later then,” he says, his eyes back on Castiel.

Castiel nods his affirmative.

~~

Later comes less than an hour after their breakfast. Sam goes off to the town hall to look up some records they need for their current haunting case while he and Dean return to their motel room. The lone bed is rumbled, unmade and the smell of their morning sex is in the air. Castiel finds he doesn’t mind it, it’s better than the usual stale and dusty air the motel rooms have when they first walk in. He and Dean have made their mark on the room and it smells like them -- Castiel likes the smell of them. He finds that his stomach twists in fear that Dean will say what Castiel is afraid he”ll will say. That he may lose the best reward becoming human gave him. 

Dean is quiet, avoiding Castiel’s gaze, taking off his jacket and his flannel; it’s pretty warm in the room so Castiel removes his own flannel, leaving him in a worn gray t-shirt he’d appropriated from Dean when he first decided to lose the business suit and trench coat -- unless they were posing as some sort of law enforcement official. Dean’s shirt is black, short sleeves tight around Dean’s biceps, and it brings out his freckles. Castiel watches Dean take his time placing his jacket and flannel shirt on a chair, stare at the wall for a full minute, his back to Castiel, before his shoulders square and he turns. 

Dean looks focused but wary. Dean hates talks. Castiel understands this but feels he has no choice this time. Yet he doesn’t have a clue how to start so he just stares Dean in the eye. 

After over a minute of this, Dean licks his lips, rolls his eyes, crosses his arms defensively and says, “What did I do? Sam thinks I did something to piss you off.”

Guilt is almost as bad as jealousy. He doesn’t want Dean to blame himself for wanting what he wants. “It’s not your fault, not really, you are who you are and I...” Castiel bites his lower lip to stop himself from saying love, he and Dean don’t say that -- even if he hopes they both feel it, though right now he is truly afraid it is only him. “I like who you are, very much.”

Dean shrugs, a little too casually, and Castiel doesn’t need to read his thoughts or feel his emotions to know Dean doesn’t know how to accept the approval. He seems pleased, but then looks wary. “I am who I am...what does that mean? Cas, what’s going on?”

“You want to fornicate with women,” Castiel states. He decides instead of asking he’ll just go with what he knows and he knows this. “You want to fornicate with women, especially women with ample breasts. I remember your dreams, memories of women you have been with, the countless times you have held and suckled at their breasts while bringing them to orgasm with your hand. Every time we see a beautiful woman, with ample breasts I see you looking and missing them. I find it makes me envious and this negative emotion makes me afraid you may be bored with me.”

“What?” Dean says, his eyes wide and his crossed arms digging harder into his chest. “Um, okay, first it’s creepy you know that much about my sex life, and aren’t you forgetting the stuff you must know about the men I’ve been with?”

“Men do not have breasts. You like breasts,” Castiel says. “I am now a man, I cannot give you two ample mounds of flesh to play and suckle with.”

 

“Stop saying ample,” Dean mutters, eyes closing, his breath coming in and out anxiously. “Shit, Cas, this is stupid.”

“I don’t believe it is, but if you are going to want breasts I believe we should discuss it. Would I have to share you? Or would we...stop being what we are?”

“You want to leave me because you saw me look at a few boobs?”

Castiel feels a flash of anger then, at Dean’s abandonment issues but it doesn’t change the fact Castiel knows Dean likes breasts. “I do not want to leave you, quite the contrary but since you still want women...”

“I don’t want women, not really, I don’t,” Dean says in a tone that says he’s not quite believing what he is saying to Castiel.

“Since we have begun fornicating you have looked at fifteen women’s breasts quite hungrily.”

“I’m not hungry for breasts, but yeah I look. I mean they are...” Dean holds up his hands and forms two cups with them. “Yeah, okay, I like breasts but I don’t want the women attached to them...okay that sounded gross.”

“I will share you if I must,” Castiel says, hating the idea more as he voices it, his hands form fists at the thought of sharing Dean will anyone that isn’t Sam, with anyone in a sexual way. It angers him in ways that scare him. 

Dean stares at him, eyes wide, but focused. His gaze sliding over Castiel’s body and landing on his fists. “Yeah the growly voice and fists really sell that idea, Cas....I...” Dean trails off, the moves away. “I need to think.”

“Should I leave?”

“No. Don’t go anywhere, just give me a minute to figure out what the fuck Sam would do if he was having this weird ass conversation....” Dean’s palm goes to the back of his neck and he stares at the wallpaper.

Castiel recognizes the movements, Dean does this when he feels he’s in a corner and needs a smart and good game plan to find higher ground. Castiel hasn’t seen it much since they stopped the Apocalypse. If he didn’t feel so coiled up with negative emotions he’s sure the surge of pride of making Dean feel cornered would cause a smile. As it is though all he can see is no way out of the fact that Dean wants breasts. 

Dean turns around after a few minutes where the only sound in the room is their breathing and levels Castiel with a hard stare. “Okay, first of all stop talking like you still have a pair of angel wings and a stick up your ass. I need to clarify a few things?”

Castiel nods. 

“You are jealous because I have looked at a few boobs.”

“Fifteen.”

“Anal...” Dean laughs but it sounds nervous. “You are assuming that me looking at these breasts means I’ll leave you for a woman?”

Castiel sighs. “Though you do sleep with men Dean you have predominately preferred women all your life, you have wanted to make lives with two of them.”

“They are the past.”

“There is still the fact.....”

“They’re boobs, I’m going to look!” Dean shouts, cutting Castiel off. “Damn it, Cas, looking, it’s just, it’s looking. It’s... I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I don’t understand,” Castiel says shaking his head. “If you are looking at them you want them.”

“Cas, I want you.”

“But you love breasts. I saw many dreams involving those Busty Asian Beauties...”

“And you never saw the dreams starring you?” Dean asks suddenly, cheeks flushing. “You know way too much about my subconscious, yet you don’t know about that?”

Castiel stares. He’d never seen any dreams about himself, only women. “When did you begin to dream about me?”

“Sometime after Raphael, actually...” Dean mutters.

“I found dream walking too tiring by then. I never visited your mind after that, I had to rely solely on the cell phone to find you.”

“Oh.”

e feels awkward and still afraid of losing Dean. “What were these dreams like?”

“Hot. Sweaty...no boobs in sight,” Dean says, grinning his best lopsided grin. 

“Oh. I find myself very sorry I missed those, I would have licked your ear earlier.”

Dean laughs. “I wanted too do something earlier too, just didn’t think you’d want me, still don’t...” Dean trails off, looking at the floor until he looks up his face stripped of all his usual defenses. “Look Cas seriously, I want you, just you.”

Castiel sighs. “I am still confused by the staring at them.”

Dean groans. “Cas,” he says as he closes the space between them. Castiel gasps when Dean’s hands grip his hips so hard he can feel the shape of them through his jeans. “Forget the boobs,” Dean says as he pushes Castiel onto the bed hands grabbing Castiel’s shirt to take it off.

Castiel eyes close, his body responding to Dean quicky -- as always. Before he knows it his shirt is gone and Dean’s tongue is tracing the rim of his ear. “Going to show you a hot, sweaty dream you missed out on,” Dean says, voice rough and low, lowering his body onto Castiel’s causing his stomach to pleasantly flip. He turns to try latch his own mouth onto Dean’s mouth, his neck, anywhere is fine by him. Suddenly he wants to do nothing but taste and touch and remind Dean who he belongs. Possessiveness, the simple by product of jealousy Castiel thinks. Dean isn’t there though. Dean is straddling his hips taking off his own shirt. “I don’t need boobs, angel, I’ve got this,” he says, eyes focused on Castiel’s chest. Castiel swallows, hands gripping the sheets so he doesn’t grab onto Dean and try to take over. Wants Dean to lead this, needs Dean to lead this. 

“Gonna be honest here,” Dean says, as he starts lazily circling his thumbs around Castiel’s nipples. Castiel’s throat goes dry and he licks his lips at the gentle soft graze,. His gaze lowers from Dean’s face to watch as his own nipples go taut, the gooseflesh rise on his skin, his aureoles puckering. “If I notice chicks for their breasts, with it’s arms, their forearms, biceps, and their hands...on you, thanks to that damn stupid trench coat all I had was your hands. And damn Cas -- I used to have to remind myself they weren’t really yours, the slender fingers, that wrist the way you’d flex it, I’d think of your fingers inside me, your wrist moving as you moved in and out...”

“Dean...” Castiel growls at both the words and the sudden pinching of his nipples as Dean stops his words. 

Dean huffs out a laugh but leans down, kisses Castiel’s jaw. “I got you...when I finally got a glimpse of your ass by the way... damn!” Dean bites at Castiel’s chin and then Dean lowers his mouth to Castiel’s right nipple, tongue darting out as his thumb keeps up a lazy circle on the other. “Your whole body, all lean and getting leaner the longer you’re human, muscles hiding underneath your skin, I can still smell your grace, all that power, your stronger than me,” Dean murmurs against Castiel’s skin, lips grazing, tongue licking between the words. 

Castiel arches, his hips searching for friction, Dean shifts over him, groans into Castiel’s skin. “Now your chest,” Dean says, voice rougher from lust. He moves so instead of straddling Castiel he’s laying over him but he places lower body to the side. “Your chest, Cas, is perfect.” He pinches the right nipple then, twisting it a bit and Castiel growls, hips bucking up, wanting to grind against Dean. 

“Dean!” Castiel reaches to grab, to pull and get what he wants.

“Hands back on the bed,” Dean orders. 

Castiel lets them fall back but he glares at Dean.

Dean laughs but as he does he quickly unbuttons Castiel’s jeans and Castiel arches to help him and it feels like it takes too long but soon Castiel’s cock is in Dean’s hand. As Dean begins to stroke, he moves his head back down and starts to lick, nibbling around Castiel’s left nipple, as he strokes Castielt in a lazy rhythm. “You are fucking perfect,” Dean mutters. “Taste so fucking good, could do this forever,” Dean says, but soon his words cut off as Castiel hands leave the sheet. His fingers pushed into Dean’s hair. He pushes Dean against his skin, trying to urge him to stop teasing the skin around his nipple, to give it the attention it wants. All the while his hips arch into Dean’s strokes. 

Too soon Castiel is coming, crying out Dean’s name. He slumps back, feeling completely sated. Dean’s lips are on his and they kiss lazily. When they break apart, Dean’s eyes are still dark with heat and that something more they never name. “Stop worrying about random boobs. You and me, this...” 

Dean kisses him again and Castiel knows in his bones he doesn’t have to worry about ample breasts.


End file.
